


The Owl and the Harry-cat

by Bonfoi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Death, Community: hd_inspired, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Redemption, Repentance, Romance, Written in 2008
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-17
Updated: 2012-12-17
Packaged: 2017-11-21 08:34:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/595672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bonfoi/pseuds/Bonfoi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The feathers fly when Harry finally discovers Draco’s secret.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Owl and the Harry-cat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mayflo](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Mayflo).



> **Warnings:** Realignment/reconfiguration of canon couples; canon death  
>  **A/N:** Draco’s blond hair got me to thinking and with some convolution of thought and the inspiration of Mayflo’s art and the birds at the feeder, I now come bearing fic for her delectation and joy! I also send _beau coup_ thanks to the mods of LJ community HD_Inspired for all their hard work and kindness!  
>  **Betas:** Many thanks to my first beta, my sister, MJ. Jumping in to help me after I tweaked things, calanthe_fics (who graciously Britpicked as well) and the_minx_17 both gave a second beta to make this a much better fic! I could never have done this without the eyes and friendship of all three!

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**  
_ Disclaimer:_   
** The world of Harry Potter, its characters and settings are the copyrighted works of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., her publishing companies and affiliates. No profit was made from the writing of this story nor was any malice intended in any way, shape or form to the author or the actors/actresses who so brilliantly have brought them to life.

This author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.

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**:: Prologue ::**

 

The white feathers floated down through the air so slowly, like snowflakes tumbling through barely blowing breezes. They were caught in the branches of the dead trees surrounding the clearing like memories, so fragile, so sad. Draco Malfoy watched the last remains of Harry Potter’s most faithful companion fall to Earth and he winced. What were they doing killing animals?

He clutched his wand hard and thought about all the things he’d done to get to this point, this precipice of doubt. Repairing the Vanishing Cabinet—a feat even his father could never have achieved—letting the Death Eaters in to rampage through Hogwarts—something he wished he’d failed at—and finally, after failing to kill Dumbledore, being saved by _Harry Bloody Potter!_

That bird had been with Potter ever since he came to Hogwarts. The best picture Draco had cut out and hidden under his bed all those years ago was of Potter and his owl, Heddy…Hegbert…something Welsh…

Without any clear thought in mind, the wan, worn youth bent forward to pick up a pristine tailfeather. _I wish I’d never had to hate…_ In a flash, the bedraggled blond was gone and in his place was a large Snowy Owl with only a smattering of dark brown bars across its tailfeathers and an odd greyish-brown squiggle on its left wing. Its large yellow eyes blinked and then blinked again as the bird let out a "hooo-uh, hooo-uh, hooo-uh, wuh-wuh-wuh" as it hopped from one foot to the other, flapping its wings in apparent consternation.

The sudden cessation of spellcasts and booming destruction finally impinged on the creature that had been Draco Malfoy’s sharp ears. He swivelled his head to the right and left, homing in on the approaching crackle of feet snapping dead branches. With a powerful flex of his muscles, the snowy owl was across the small glade and hidden in the treetops long before Harry Potter found the pitiful remains of…

“Oh…Hedwig…” he whispered.

~~~~~~§~~~~~~

Throughout the battles, a large Snowy Owl with a mean streak guarded Harry’s back and those of Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. Whenever they ventured near a Death Eater stronghold, the bird was there, somehow feeding them information such as when to hide and when to run. It wasn’t like Hedwig, or any real variant on the loving Hedwig—this bird’s temper was so foul that sometimes even Harry dreaded trying to tie a note to its leg! Hermione had lost hair to the wicked black beak and Ron’s right forearm would always carry the scratches of his first and only time petting the beast; only Harry or Hagrid could use the bird for messages without losing body parts.

Harry’s sharp whistle brought the Snowy Owl to him. The last battle, the last time he’d face Voldemort would be in a few hours and he wanted desperately to send off his last will and testament to the goblins of Gringotts. He’d laid out all his wealth, even the things Hermione and Ron didn’t know about, in plain black-and-white. “C’mere, Demon. One more message for you and then you can go back to eating other people.” He held out his arm, the one he’d taken to wrapping in an old leather apron since the bird’s talons were razor-sharp.

The bird’s large yellow eyes never left the roll of parchment in Harry’s hands. The stench of Blood Magic rolled off the thing, making its stomach turn with the thought that it should be hunting and not helping the Prat Who Lived. Momentarily distracted, the fowldidn’t feel the gentle fingers carding through his feathers, picking at broken ones and smoothing others as they travelled. Between one blink and the next, the message was tied to his leg and he was sailing through the air. After five months, the two of them had come to an understanding: distraction was the best way to get things done.

Using his powerful wings, Demon pushed himself through the grasping branches of the Forbidden Forest. With the innate magic of a familiar, he knew that he had to deliver the will and hurry back. Hedwig’s spirit was pushing him towards something…troubling…something that would influence his life…once he became a wizard again.

~~~~~~§~~~~~~

**:: Six Years Later ::**

 

Faint strains of music carried to where Draco Malfoy stood in the shadows of Hogwarts and shook his head. Potter stood tall and proud as the Weaslette and her husband, Professor Neville Longbottom—Morgana, Snape must be spinning in whatever crypt they’d laid him!—led the Annual Victory Procession around the Black Lake. Hagrid stood next to him, soft gulping sobs smothered in a polka-dotted sheet. Whenever Draco’s avian urges overcame him, he hunted in the Forbidden Forest. Hagrid had shown him the best places for rats and the odd snake, and in return, Draco had rare but _safe_ creatures delivered to Hagrid on a steady basis.

No one paid attention to the white-blond man; he was effectively hidden behind Hagrid’s bulk. Yet, he’d fought the war, first against them as a foolish child and then as the secret agent nobody had known existed, much like Snape. Huffing into the warm air, Draco stepped forward, in front of the still mourning half-giant. His wand was held in one hand, over his heart in the manner of Roman soldiers as the line of people wound past him and his companion. Murmurs broke out amongst the more observant until finally even Harry Potter’s contingent began staring around. It was Potter’s own voice that rose above the hub-bub…

“…Fucking hell, it’s Malfoy!”

The procession ground to a halt as Weasleys large and small drew their wands and pointed them at the blond. A blond who sneered, never dropping his salute as the faint music of mourning still played. When the last note floated away on the air, his wand was slipped into the holster on his left forearm and hidden from sight. Draco turned to Hagrid and tugged at those great fingers, trying to get the half-giant to stop blubbering. His words didn’t carry to the others but they saw Hagrid wipe his eyes and then felt the gust when he blew his nose.

Malfoy turned the only being that had shown him kindness when he truly needed it towards the castle. He was gentle, prodding the fellow little by little away from the stunned line of magical folk until they were hidden behind a fountain. The crowd suddenly burst forth, breaking rank to mill about. Harry just stood still, like a boulder in the flow of a fast stream, letting the human tide break and swirl around him. He hadn’t seen Malfoy since the weekend before, when he’d kicked the prat out of his bed for wanting to skip this year’s Procession.

A throaty "krufff-guh-guh-guk" was the only warning Harry had that Demon, the Snowy Owl that had adopted him after the war, was coming in for a landing. He reflexively put out his left arm, protected by a leather sleeve nowadays, for the bird’s breakneck manoeuvre. Even after all these years, the owl’s body came to an abrupt stop and dropped on Harry’s shoulder making him take a sudden step forward in trying to keep his balance. “Bloody bird,” Harry muttered even as he reached up to scritch gently under that wicked beak.

There was a frayed message on the bird’s leg and its sharp, black beak was pulling on Harry’s hair. It took ten minutes to get the message untied and then Harry’s eyes grew wide as he saw the message was the will he’d sent to Gringotts before the Final Battle! “How the hell..?!” he choked out. “I sent this…what? Almost six years ago.” Somehow, his wand was poking up under the feathers beneath Demon’s beak. “Didn’t you deliver this?” he hissed.

The bird shook its head and took to the wing. It was a spot against the clear sky when Harry opened the will further. Inside someone had written _“You never know who’s on your side until they are gone.”_ The cursive “D” gave Harry a sinking feeling, the only person he ever knew to use that as a signature had just left with Hagrid.

~~~~~~§~~~~~~

Harry had been involved in an off-again-on-again affair with Malfoy for so many years, they should have made it official. Since the rebuilding effort after the war and Malfoy being cleared of the most heinous charges, Harry had made it his business to keep the man close. He’d kept him so close that when they fell into bed the first time no one had blinked an eye.

“Damn you, Malfoy. How on earth did you get Demon to give you my will?” Harry whispered. Hermione was still observant, and with a brother-in-law who had a magical ear, they’d all learned to read lips. She wove around the rest of the family and stepped closer. 

She leaned her head on her oldest friend’s shoulder and hugged him tightly, like she used to as a child. “What did Malfoy do now?” He could hear the laugh in her voice. “Pluck some feathers from Demon and send them to you via the same poor bird?” Hermione leaned back to look up into those famous green eyes and lost her smile. “Harry?! What did Malfoy **do**?” She shook him trying to get some reaction.

“He sent me my will and some mysterious message. Here, you won’t leave me be so I might as well let you look.” Harry handed her the will and walked away, towards the Black Lake and hopefully mental illumination. Hermione read the will in its entirety; she’d never seen it before. When she got to Malfoy’s message, her eyes were flashing, but not with anger on Harry’s behalf.

Shrieking at the top of her lungs, Hermione Weasley-Granger rounded on her friend. “Harry James Potter, you conniving, underhanded, egotistical, self-centred, heartless bastard!” The hand not crushing the will was slapping at Harry’s stunned expression. “You wrote this…this abomination…while we were fighting! You planned on dying that day, didn’t you? You wanted to leave us…leave the Weasleys…” The tears were falling down her face, ruining her make-up and leaving streaks of blue and black.

“Get a hold of yourself, Hermione!” Harry grabbed her hands and looked for help. None of the Weasleys who’d gathered around dared get involved just yet; they knew from experience that Hermione would hex them if they moved too soon. Harry’s frantic glances finally lighted on Ron and he waved for his best friend to come and restrain his wife. “C’mere, Ron…please? She’s angry about something I did six years ago!” His voice was rising to carry over Hermione’s hiccupping wails. “I was a fucking kid! Bugger it all!” he finally shouted.

Everyone stopped whatever they were doing and stared at the nonexistent breeze ruffling Potter’s hair. Hermione’s tears dried up like a puddle in the sun and she stood back. “Then explain why you never told us this? And why did Malfoy have it? Tell us, Harry…we’re family and we’ve been friends for over fifteen years…don’t you trust us?” Her eyes were still filled with tears even as she stared intently into Harry’s dazed eyes.

Grabbing his hair and pulling—hard—Harry tried to mentally order his thoughts but they still tumbled and banged between his ears. “I don’t know! All right, I don’t know…it was the war and people were dying and…and then Hedwig…and…” his voice trailed off as he stepped back. His eyes were blank, just like his face; it was as if he was still _in_ the thick of the fighting again. “I…I need to find him…I need Draco…” he whispered. In the blink of an eye, he Apparated away from his stunned family and friends.

Ron’s low growl over Hermione’s right shoulder was a subtle indication that she may have pushed a bit too hard.

~~~~~~§~~~~~~

Draco flew over the London sky, avoiding chimney pots and stacks with ease. Ever since the day Hedwig’s avian spirit had forced him into his true Animagus form, he’d realized how much he was like the barmy owl. He relished the power he wielded; he gave his approbation only to a privileged few; and, he loved Harry Potter.

A harsh “krufff-guh-guk" broke from the Snowy Owl as he wheeled around the chimneys of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. A smooth glide brought him to a landing in the owlery at the top of the house where he ruffled his feathers and proceeded to groom himself. The soothing, repetitive actions calmed him and gave him perspective. He hopped off the perch he always roosted upon and transformed himself in mid-jump. “Potter, you, sir, are an imbecile,” Draco muttered. “A bat-eyed, dandelion-haired, git of a fit body all wrapped up in so many damned insecurities there’s no blanket big enough to cover them all!”

He’d climbed down the attic stairs as he continued to fume aloud, covering ground as he continued to vent. “What makes you think I stayed because I didn’t want to? Why go to a funeral every year when the body’s already buried?” Draco realized he was standing in the spare room he used for his things, packing his trunk in the midst of throwing a glass Snitch into the chest-of-drawers. “See…now you’ve got me talking to myself!” He stamped his feet as he flicked his wand to shut the trunk.

“Serves you right for not letting me know you were an unregistered Animagus.” Standing solid in the doorway, Harry flicked his wand and mumbled a restraining spell that toppled Draco to the bed. Striding forward, faint shimmers of magic wafting off from him and raising his hair, Harry Potter was an avenging angel. But his words would never be construed as angelic: “Fucking hell! You’re one to talk! Lying to me all these years!”

The spell only held Draco’s body and his tongue finally broke loose. “Lied?! How did I lie? Oh, yes, I lied when I said I was flitting around during the war, didn’t I? I lied when I welcomed you to my bed after that first nightmare, sharing your tears that night? You think I lied when I begged you to fuck me like an animal in front of Walburga Black? Oh, yes, and of course I lied when I told you I’d never let anything happen to you…is that what you believe?” The shouting voice had softened until it was a bare whisper. “That’s all I am to you, isn’t it? A lying slut of a Death Eater who you oh so kindly…oh so kindly…made love to…?” The tears in his eyes never fell but they reflected the waning daylight like broken diamonds.

Harry gulped; he never did well once he realized he was in the wrong. He held his wand out and slashed it through the air, releasing the spell wordlessly. Then, sidling closer, he stood by the bed and looked down on the man who had suddenly shown up near the war’s end, full of angry pride and information. “You saved a lot of people, you know that. You didn’t tell anyone…that’s not the Draco Malfoy I thought I knew.” Tilting his head to the side and hiding his glasses with the overgrown fringe Draco always tugged at during sex, Harry asked in a small voice, “Will you…will you tell me what happened…how you became a Snowy Owl…you know, how you were always there when I needed you and I couldn’t work out how you got there…” He thumped down on the bed near Draco’s still prone body.

Turning on his side, Draco scribed a random design on the bed spread as he thought. The silence grew and Harry squirmed, trying to find a comfortable position without lying down. Clearing his throat, the blond began speaking. “I never wanted to kill…I mean once I saw how _permanent_ it was. I was skulking in the woods, trying not to murder anyone and I saw her, you know, Hedwig…I saw her die. The feathers just…” His grey eyes were distant even as he looked up at Harry. 

“The feathers were so white, just like snow. They were caught in the trees and even on my robes. I bent down to…I don’t know…finally give her the respect she deserved maybe, and suddenly I was a ball of fluff winging it through the trees.” Draco put his head down and covered his face with his arm. He could hear Harry finally sigh and felt the mattress give a wobble as the prat laid himself down.

“Why did you become an owl? I mean, you were a ferret that time in school…did someone curse you?” Harry’s voice was soft, near Draco’s ear. From shoulder to hip, the blond felt the heat roll off Harry’s body even as the last tendrils of magic brushed against his own.

Removing his arm, Draco just turned his head to answer with a growl, “Your bloody bird did it, Potter! Her spirit dragged my form out of me! For the first month, I couldn’t transform back to a man because she didn’t want you all alone!” Harry’s unexpected kiss stole his breath. Sputtering, Draco rolled off the other side of the bed and he tottered on his feet. “What the hell?! You’re kissing me? **Now?!** ” The mirror cracked from side-to-side at a spike of magic from the ranting Animagus.

Harry sat up and began stripping. When he was down to his shirt and trousers, the Savior of All Things Wizarding told his lover why. “We never had problems in bed, Malfoy. Maybe it will work this time, too? Anyway, we get naked, we talk and get close and perhaps we figure out the important stuff together. What do you say?” He pulled the button-down shirt over his head, without unbuttoning most of the buttons, and laid back to undo the trousers under Draco’s interested eyes.

Shrugging out of his robes, Draco waved his wand and stood nude by the side of the bed. His cock was interested even if his head was telling him to look for holes in Harry’s logic. Tossing his wand onto the bedside table, he transformed into Demon and hopped across the bouncing mattress to lean against the brunet’s broad, tanned chest. Rubbing his head against Harry’s chest, the Snowy Owl softly cooed and huffed. In the middle of a particularly erotic rub against a nipple, Draco became his male self again and kissed Harry’s cheeks and lips. He pulled at the brunet’s unruly hair, making an _oof_ of laughter burst from Harry’s lips.

“I never realized how much of an owl you are in bed… _oh!_ ” Harry’s eyes rolled back into his head as Draco’s sharp teeth nipped his earlobes in imitation of the Snowy Owl he could become. The brunet pulled the blond closer, pressing as much skin as possible against the heat of Draco’s flushed body. They slid against each other, biting and nipping and sucking every centimetre of skin they could. Soon, they moaned and stilled, cock against cock, lined up perfectly to bring themselves off. Harry was gulping air as he urged Draco’s head to his shoulder.

“Why is it that when we fall into bed, the world is all right? That there’s no anger, no hurt feelings...nothing but your soft skin under my lips, my hands, my cock.” Harry pushed Draco’s hair from his sweaty forehead, marvelling at how he’d missed the colour turning from blond to white-blond. “Your hair…it’s so close in colour to the Snowy Owl’s…I never realized.” He kissed his lover’s cheek, mouthing along the cheekbone until he could breathe into that shell of an ear, “Why do you love me so much? Why did you save me all those years ago?”

Draco’s hips rolled against Harry’s hip, rubbing his throbbing prick as if marking territory. Gritting his teeth and fighting back the lack of blood near his brain, the Animagus tried to think straight—Harry’s natural scent didn’t make that easy! “Wh…why can’t you just f-fuck me now and talk later?” he whined. His grey eyes had a hint of bright yellow and there were one or two feathers sprouted behind each ear.

Harry just nodded and proceeded to snog and frot with his longtime-lover. They rolled back and forth, rucking up the bed spread and sheets as they stole the moans from each other’s lips. Hands flew from one body to another, mapping out muscles and curves, building new memories full of remembered sounds. Sloppy kisses finally ceased as they both found release and spent their cream upon each other.

Gasping as he lay on his back, Draco tried to purse his lips and failed. Harry’s strained breaths through his nose wheezed in and out for several minutes as their bodies cooled. “Call that sex, Potter?” the blond gasped out. “I didn’t scream once, you kno— _mrph!_ ” Harry’s lips—moist and plump—stopped the words falling from the blond man’s lips most insistently.

Harry Potter proceeded to show Draco Malfoy just how much he’d been holding back; even in all the years they’d been together, he’d never been so…so voracious! His hands gripped and clawed and bruised Draco’s fairer skin, marking his path over and over. He nipped and sucked and licked over scars and nipples, making every nerve quiver with the power of Harry’s attention.

“ _Nguh!_ Where…whe-oh yeah…hiding all thesssss…” Draco’s face was beaming, sweat collecting on his forehead and upper lip as he lost his mind to sexual ecstasy. He was beyond caring about bruised egos or bruised thighs; he only wanted to have Harry inside him, pounding him as vigourously as he was ravishing his outer body. He writhed and flexed to the tune Harry was playing upon his skin and bones until all he knew was an all-consuming hum that sang through his very being. His arms finally took control and urged the brunet’s body across his so that he could brokenly beg, “In…in…IN!”

For some odd reason, Harry’s grasp of wandless magic was always finely tuned during sex and the unspoken command for lubricant was met with five small tubs of it. Grabbing the first one his hand encountered, the Saviour of the Wizarding World tried to unscrew the lid one-handed and when that didn’t work, once again called on his wandless ability. Once the small tub was open, he plunged his fingers in, just like he would do in moments to the damp, warm heat hidden behind Draco’s balls.

Fingers where they could do the best work, Harry opened Draco’s channel gently but thoroughly until his own cock was purple from being withheld from its favourite stopping place. Green eyes blazing, the brunet wizard surrounded his lover with magic meant to soothe their joining and then knelt between those lithe, long legs and pressed in. Neither one made a sound as Harry’s cock pushed past the guarding ring of muscle. Resting balls-deep, he finally took a breath and stared down at the unguarded eyes of his lover, **his Draco!**

“I do love you…” Harry began drawing back, slowly, until only the head of his prick was trapped and then he surged forward, pulling Draco’s legs up and around his waist. Every time he spoke, Harry punctuated his statements with a hit on Draco’s prostate, bending the man into abstract shapes of lust. “I don’t think I can…” He thrust. “…can live without…” Another thrust. “…you.” A twist of the hips and another strong pistoning of his hips brought Harry over Draco’s heaving chest. “Don’t care…just want you…always you…” He pounded into the blond’s channel, reaming it so deeply that it felt as if his own balls were being sucked in. There were no more words, only sounds that might have been pleas, agreements, exhortations, or praise.

Bending Draco into an arch of bruised beauty, Harry hit his prostate one more time and made him come untouched. The warm creamy pearls hitting Harry’s stomach drove him over the edge and he screamed as he shuddered into Draco’s convulsing channel. Neither of them could move as the brunet fell face-forward in a swoon.

~~~~~~§~~~~~~

Hours later, when the sun was just rising and the sky was painted a dusky rose, Harry looked down at the man he’d spent so much of his life with and grinned. A soft peck on the nose had the aforementioned feature wrinkling as Draco fought waking up. Harry didn’t give up and soon the Animagus was “kurf-huffing” with disapproval of the morning light. The brunet’s delighted laugh shook his chest and woke up Draco properly.

“Trust you to ruin a good post-coital collapse, Potter,” he groused.

“Can’t help myself, Malfoy…you looked too relaxed.” Harry’s chuckle was muffled in the white-blond locks beneath his chin. 

Safe in his lover’s arms, Draco’s voice came out small as he wondered out loud, “So…do we talk now? I mean, I want to tell you why I hid the will and all about being an Animagus and…” A calloused finger rested against the thin aristocratic lips and stopped the babbling.

“You wanted to protect me. You did protect me. Then, I got lucky enough to fall in love with you. ‘Nuff said.” The rumble of the brunet’s voice warmed Draco’s heart; he was forgiven. “’Sides, you’ll tell me when _you’re_ ready. I should know better than to be pushy or demanding, Draco. Shouldn’t I?” His arms tightened as if the blond would be flying from them.

In an instant, a Snowy Owl was perched on Harry Potter’s chest, talons lightly resting on his pectorals. He didn’t dare to breathe as he watched Draco in his Animagus form. The next instant, Draco the man was sitting on Harry’s chest, laughing and chortling. “The look on your face! Ye gods, too funny!” He manoeuvred himself down his lover’s body until he was lying on him from chest to knees. 

“One day, Potter, I’m going to tell you what I learned from Hedwig. She watched over you until the end of war. The daft bird’s spirit made me promise to give you a chance, you know that?” The fine white-blond hair, sprinkled with a few loose feathers, drifted over Draco’s eyes as he tilted his head down. “I did. Made me see the world as it was and not as I’d been taught it should be. Damned uncomfortable…” He wriggled against the cock showing its interest in its neighbour. “I fell in love after five years and I’d only make you suffer for a bit if you hadn’t done what you did last night.”

Harry pulled Draco down slowly, sliding his fingers into those soft tresses until they were threaded between his digits. His breath puffed out and mingled with Draco’s right before they kissed, a gentle pressing of lips and tongues that said everything mushy they didn’t have the courage to say out loud…yet.

The kiss ended as softly as it had begun and Harry’s voice burbled out of him, gleeful at having a secret just like Draco’s. “Want to see what I can do?” Draco’s body fell to the mattress as a soft, small body snuggled under his throat.

“Meow…” A small black and white feline with striking green-yellow eyes blinked up at him when he rolled over. It patted at Draco’s face with soft paws and purred.

“So…do you like him?” Harry’s voice came from over Draco’s shoulder and startled him…and the feline. “His name is Fearless. He came home with me last weekend and never left. Even scared the portrait bitch into silence when he Levitated himself up and slashed her. Want to keep him?” The words tumbled over themselves as Harry Potter, Destroyer of Dark Gits and All-around Saviour, tried to gauge his lover’s interest.

Draco propped his head on his hand and petted the cat who lived up to his name and rubbed noses with him. “I thought you were an Animagus and instead you can Apparate without taking my cock with you…Impressive. Now, come back to bed, convince me again about why I should share you with Fearless and then I might tell you some stories about Snowy Owls.”

_Who knew naked Harry Potters could move so fast?_ was Draco’s last coherent thought for the day.

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_~~~ Comments, like rain in the desert, are greatly appreciated.  
Thank you for reading. ~~~_

* * *

**Original Prompt:**  
 **Requester:** Mayflo

For the gift you would like to receive:  
 **Any special requests for what you’d like to see in your gift. Include any kinks, clichés or genre you enjoy:** Post-war, established relationship, I don't mind semi-bestiality (as in non-graphic bestiality or just petting and touching, nothing hardcore), explicit smut b/w H/D in human form! (kinkier the better :P), adventure, mystery, hurt/comfort  
 **Squicks and things you do NOT want in your gift (e.g. Animagus sex):** No unhappy endings,   
**Do you have a preference for who is the Animagus?:** Not at all  
 **Do you want your gift to be Deathly Hallows epilogue compliant?:** Not necessary for this particular exchange.   
**Name up to three animals you DO NOT want used (e.g. spiders):** Any insect or slimy eeky animal is no-no, Draco as ferret and Harry as stag, that's too clichéd.  
 **Provide one or two scenarios you’d like to see used (optional):** I'm really open to any kind of scenario. But I like mystery and/or adventure. Perhaps a good twist in the end?? But really, I'm easy to please!

**Author's Note:**

> **Reference**
> 
>  
> 
> (1) [Spoilers: Who Dies in Deathly Hallows](http://www.chiff.com/a/harry-potter-dh-deaths.htm)  
> (2) Images/Research: Snowy Owls  
> a. [Snowy Owl in snow](http://www.nrdc.org/water/conservation/hbyear/images/jan1.jpg)  
> b. [Cornell Lab of Ornithology All About Birds: Snowy Owl](http://www.birds.cornell.edu/AllAboutBirds/BirdGuide/Snowy_Owl.html)  
> c. [Snowy Owl - Bubo scandiacus* (3) Designation: _Bubo scandiacus_ (Former Designation: _Nyctea scandiaca_ ) (4) ](http://www.owlpages.com/owls.php?genus=Bubo&species=scandiacus)[Fowl as defined at AskOxford.com](http://www.askoxford.com/concise_oed/fowl?view=uk): fowl • noun (pl. same or fowls) 1 (also domestic fowl) a domesticated bird derived from a junglefowl and kept for its eggs or flesh; a cock or hen. 2 any domesticated bird, e.g. a turkey or duck. 3 birds collectively, especially as the quarry of hunters.
> 
> ^^^^^^^^^^^^**^^^^^^^^^^^^


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